Resurrection
by Cyricist001
Summary: Through Louise Halkeginia is transported to the world of Nevendaar. How will the mages survive in the doomed world of the Disciples games? Follow Colbert on his adventures and find out.


Resurrection

I own nothing

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><p>The wind blew through the naked branches of the forest, making the dry leaves spin in the air. A hooded person glanced at the dark clouds gathering overhead <em>Looks like there will be a storm tonight<em>...though the traveler as his feet left tracks in the muddy road.

It was fortunate that he made it to the village before nightfall...it wasn't safe outside after the sun sets.

Walking passed the guards he entered a tavern, the heat from the nearby hearth was a welcomed to remove some of the chill in his cold hands.

"What are you having?" said the man behind the counter.

"Mulled wine please" said the traveler as he removed his hood "and some warm food if there is any left."

The innkeeper nodded and went to make it so "So where did you disappeared Colbert? Haven't seen you in two years..."

The balding mage rubbed his palms together, already feeling that he can move his fingers easier "I was in Newcastle" responded the mage " I'm now returning to Londinium."

"Newcastle? Why in the Founders name would you go there?!" said the shocked man.

Colbert smiled sadly "Went to give a prayer for those that left their lives fighting the Empire. I had many former students and friends who defended that place to their last breath."

The innkeeper shook his head, and placed a steaming cup in front of his old acquaintance "Here, its on the house."

"Thank you" said the mage as he took a sip. It wasn't easy to talk about the battle of Newcastle, the horrors witnessed there left many people broken inside.

"Do you think the people in Londinium found a clue about bringing us back?"

Colbert shrugged "Anythings possible. I think everyone would be happier if we left Nevendaar."

"True. Nothing but tragedy since we got here" lamented the man "I heard the a Imperial envoy went to Londinium to negotiate with the Royals again."

"It will probably end like the last time" responded Colbert "a demand to bow down to the Emperor and embrace the Highfather. And like the last time the Pope Elizabello will refuse."

"If the Empire wasn't busy with fighting of the Legions of the Damned and the Elven Alliance we would again be fighting a war of survival."

Colbert didn't say anything but felt despair about their situation. Even now he had nightmares plaguing his mind with images he saw on one battlefield or another. Since the cataclysm that transported Halkeginia into this new world, one nation after another was burned from the maps.

"There is also talk about famine in the western regions" continued the innkeeper "with the civil war, the invasion and taking in the refugees from the mainland, food is rather scare to get by, mostly for the peasants. Not that the nobles cared too much" grunted the man as he served Colbert his food.

The balding mage wanted to explain that his majesty, king Wales was doing his best in this dark times, but gave up on the notion. He had a long journey and still many miles to go before he reached Londinium, wasting time on politics was very far from his mind.

Personally he would advise the king to pressure the Pope into embracing this Highfather the Empire worshiped, that way there would be one less enemy at their doorstep and they could get some protection and not follow the other Brimiric kingdoms into ruin.

Galia fell to the Elven Alliance, guided by the merciless savage fury of the elven god Gallean. The elves cut a bloody path through the former nation, sparing nobody.

Galian king Joseph tried to unite the other monarchs against their ancient enemy but those hopes were quickly crushed since the other kingdoms found themselves assaulted by other foe's.

Bethrezen, the unholy ruler of the Legion exploited the appearance of Halkeginia in Nevendaar to gain a foothold for his demonic armies. One city after another fell to the findish horde as they raped and murdered their way through Romalia.

Tristain and Germania united to defend themselves from the enemies that suddenly appeared all around them. The conflict wasn't long in coming to their borders, Imperial Inquisitors started to forcefully preach the faith of the Highfather, burning anyone that they classified as a heretic.

The Germanian Emperor Albert III and his wife queen Henrietta hastened to defend their people and the Brimiric faith, expelling the Inquisitors out of their territories.

The Empire responded to that act with military might, its vast armies rolling into Germania with little to no resistance. In response to this Albert III gathered his troops and marched to stop the invaders.

The battle of Aachen lasted for two weeks, the stalemate only being broken when the Undead Horde took advantage of this conflict and send its rotting armies to press Germania from the other side.

Facing a two front war, queen Henrieta rallied the reserve troops that were gathered in Tristain and clashed with the new foe.

The young queens struggle against the minions of Mortis was futile. The battle was decided in one day, where the queen lost her life alongside her soldiers.

Facing the threat of the Horde marching on Tristania, Albert III tried to strike a ceasefire with the Empire in hope of saving his nation. He died in his tent by the hand of an Imperial Assassin before any compromise could be made.

After his death and that of his wife the Germanian army disintegrated. In the same time Lachala'an marched the Undead Horde on Vindobona, the city was quickly taken and destroyed by the rotting army of the Corpse Goddess.

Finding themselves in such a situation refuges from Galia, Trsitain, Germania and Romalia hastened to reach the safety of Albion and its fleets.

The gathered remnants came just in time to tip the balance of power against the Reconquista, turning it into a victory for prince Wales Tudor.

Wales was quickly crowned king and concentrated to fortify Albion against the new enemies, who fell into fighting amongst themselves. Though the Empire was busy with combating the Undead Horde, they still managed to launch an invasion on Newcastle.

The battle lasted for three months and left four hundred thousand dead on Albions soil. Mages, commoners, angels, titans, noble knight and despicable assassins all bled and died there.

It was only thanks to the effort of Karin de La Valliere that the fortified city stood through the onslaught. In a duel of epic proportions she managed to strike down the Imperial Archmage that besieged the city, before perishing from the wounds she suffered in the battle.

With their leader dead the Imperial army retreated back to the Empire. Albion celebrated their victory but it was a hollow one...too much was lost to feel good about the battles outcome.

Though they prevented an army from making a foothold on the flying nation, monsters capable of flight still terrorized the countryside. It was ill advised to find oneself outside at night. Even more alarming was the increase of cultists amongst the population, fanatics devoted to Bethrezen or even Mortis made many people consider defecting to the Empire where mages didn't lord over the common folk.

If Albion wasn't a nation high in the sky, Colbert presumed that people would be fleeing it on a daily basis. With famines, disease and constant danger of war, who would blame them...

It was obvious that Brimir wont save them, or that anything could actually save them...if only he knew what transpired that day.

He hoped that the king has found a way back, if not ...then they will need to put more effort into looking for it.

_If by some chance we could learn how Halkeginia was transported to Nevendaar perhaps we could reverse the effect_ thought Colbert...regrettably any texts he would need to research were on the mainland.

_Perhaps I could petition the king for a expedition, retrieve what I can from the Tristain Academy...maybe the Staff of Destruction could be of some use. Or perhaps rediscovering the fabled Void magic_...he knew he was grasping at straws and legends but he had to hope that they could escape from this accursed world.

"Yes I'll do that" mused the mage out loud _though I will need a few good fighters by my side...and it so happens I know where I can find them._

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><p>AN:

A oneshot for now until I get more time and finish my other stories, though opinions are always welcomed. Disciples has a relatively low magic level (in game) so FoZ mages and technology would stand a good chance in fights.

A little grimdark setting. The game has no real good guys, you can pick between demons and undead who want to wipe out all other life from Nevendaar. On the other side you have the angels, elves and dwarfs whose patron deities think the world is a wreck and wish to 'restart' it...and the elven god is actuality completely insane at this point.

Some lore for those not familiar with Disciples setting and the world of Nevendaar:

**- Ancient Lore:**

"_Legends first speak of the Highfather, lord of the gods, and bringer of light. At his side stood the greater gods, Gallean, Solonielle, and Wotan. The four would come to represent the highest order of gods, with the lesser deities cling to one or many of their collective feet. The Highfather was the first to show the gods' desire to create by forming the heavenly host from the strands of hair in his beard. The angels worshipped the Highfather and shed light across the heavens that swirled like streaking arrows in the wine dark sea. The angels quickly found favor with the gods, and names like Gabriel, Isabel, and Michael were anointed with power. But none found the eye of the Highfather like an angel named Bethrezen. The greater god was so pleased with his creation in Bethrezen that he gifted the angel with the power to create._

Bethrezen was humbled by the Highfather's generosity and determined to honor him by creating the perfect world. This world Bethrezen called Nevendaar, or 'the sacred lands' in the angelic tongue. Seeing the world Bethrezen had created, the three greater gods also longed to aid in the creation of the world. Gallean first touched the lands with a loving caress and created the great trees and forests that populated the land with their fertile shadows and pierced the sky with shrines of silent mediation. Solonielle saw Gallean's creation and cried for joy. Her salty tears rushed across Nevendaar filling the seas and creating rivers and lakes that dotted the landscape. Then together in a loving embrace the god and goddess joined together to create two races in their combined images. From the woods sprouted the elves, graceful and gentle to the land that harbored them. And the seas flourished with the merfolk, who dove to the depths and created temples in honor of the deities. Not to be undone, Wotan struck the earth and massive ranges of mountains tore into the sky. Towering over the rest of creation, Wotan chiseled the dwarven races out of granite and limestone, with the intent that they should rule over all of the lands. However the dwarves were content at the peak of the world and built cities on and into the mountain ranges where they lived. So to did the lesser gods create lesser races that dotted the lands with new cultures and new figures.

Seeing the other gods' gifts to his Nevendaar, Bethrezen pulled feathers from his wings and formed the great and small birds of the lands. Then he drew the salt from his eyes and filled the seas with fish. He rubbed the skin from his hands and feet to create the beasts of earth. And from his blood he created man and gave them everything they desired in his perfect world. Content with his work he showed this Nevendaar to the angelic hosts, announcing that he would show his offering to the Highfather, a symbol of his respect. He asked that his brothers and sisters would stand guard over the offering while he fetched the Highfather. But many of the angels were jealous of what Bethrezen created. They stole to the surface of Nevendaar and spoke with mankind who were focused on the will of the gods. For the first time, mankind saw its existence for what it truly was. The dark angels to mankind of mortality. They spoke of possessions and desires, and quickly mankind fell into these traps. Greed and lust ran rampant across the lands, and mankind burned much of creation in their impulse.

As the great forest burned, the elven race rushed to the towering mountains for shelter. The dwarves feared that the madness that gripped mankind had spread to the elves, so the earthen race created swords and hammers to protect their cities. Unarmed, most of the elves were slaughtered, and their blood stained the rivers that ran down from the peaks. Gallean cried in terror at the carnage that was enacted upon his elves and demanded that Wotan punish his creations. Wotan sneered at the other god. The forest god turned to bind the dwarves into the earth and Wotan roared in anger. Transforming himself into a great wolf, Wotan attacked Gallean, tearing his heart out of the god's chest. With divine strength Wotan hurled the beating heart into the sun where it would lie forever. Solonielle rushed to her love's aid, braving the sun's fury in an attempt to rescue the heart of the god. When she emerged from the torturous surface of the sun, her beauty and grace was gone, leaving only the scarred countenance full of righteous anger at the stone god. However when she placed the heart back in Gallean's chest, it refused to beat sending Solonielle into a despair that consumed her.

When Bethrezen returned to Nevendaar with the Highfather, the elder god was furious at the destruction and death that he saw. Enraged he hurled Bethrezen into the center of his own world, condemning him to an eternity at its core, as punishment for the insult. Then the Highfather gave the people of Nevendaar law to cease the chaos and destruction. Once again peace eased over Nevendaar, and the races lived in uneasy harmony with their heart strained to feel the presence of the divine once again.

In the center of Nevendaar, Bethrezen boiled with anger that his offering was tainted and he was blamed. Fueled by hatred, Bethrezen created a new race, the race of demons. They would be his weapons to enact his retribution on the world that condemned him, on the angels that betrayed him, and the god that spurned him. His hatred twisted him in on himself, shaping his once beautiful body into a corrupt shell of chaos. Yet his patience remained, sending his spite against the world in small dosages, and biding his time until he could enact his escape from his prison and destroy all that was created.

Likewise, Solonielle's despair consumed her. She ignored the pleas from her children and cries until her eyes drained themselves of any sign of compassion. Her own heart withered in the emptiness of her chest and she stopped calling herself Solonielle for the name Mortis. Mortis yearned to be embraced by Gallean once again, and longed for the consoling touch of oblivion. Only her seething anger at Wotan and his half-men gave her purpose. And with the patience of a goddess, she too waited for a time to enact her own vengeance."

"


End file.
